Episode 8: Brothers in Arms
by Castle Season 9
Summary: When an old buddy from Esposito's military days is found dead, the murder investigation turns personal. But with Castle and Beckett going undercover to seek out answers, will Javier go too far in his zeal to avenge his friend? Season 9, episode 8.
1. Chapter 1

**Brothers in Arms**

Season 9, Episode 8

Written by InkyCoffee and whatifellinlove

 _This is a work of fiction by writers with no professional connection to ABC network's Castle. Recognizable characters are the property of Andrew Marlowe and ABC. Names, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental._

* * *

Marcus wheezed a little as he followed Mrs. Sanchez up the third flight of wooden stairs, trying to tune out her grumbling as she fluctuated between English and Spanish. He already regretted drawing the short straw, but in a business as small as theirs, someone had to do this kind of thing.

He just hoped he wasn't causing everyone a pile of embarrassment.

But no, Andy knew how important this week was to the firm. It wasn't like him to just not show up to work without any explanation. The guy was too responsible for that.

Mrs. Sanchez paused before 3C and thumped on the door, glowering as the seconds passed and there was no response. "Andy? Andy, open up! It's Mrs. Sanchez from downstairs!"

She thumped the door again, causing a rattle that made Marcus wince. She was loud enough to wake the dead. A baby started crying from another apartment further down the corridor.

"Andy, I'm coming in!" Her voice was just a little shrill, and it took her several moments of fussing about to find the right key. "This better be worth me missing _Santos Desesperadas_."

The door creaked open, and Marcus was hit by an unpleasant stench, as if there was backed up sewage… and maybe burnt almonds?

"Andy? It's Mrs. Sanchez. Your work friend is here! Are you home?" Mrs. Sanchez apparently hadn't noticed the smell and bustled inside. Marcus kept his distance. He could hear the TV playing infomercials, volume down low, and as he followed the landlady through the small kitchen, the smell only grew.

Mrs. Sanchez stopped where the kitchen opened out into the main living area. A figure was sitting in an armchair in the darkest corner of the room, facing away from them. "Andy, there you are! Why didn't you open the door?"

Marcus approached Andy slowly, the smell becoming more apparent with every step. His stomach dropped as his colleague did not acknowledge them. "Andy?"

Finally close enough to see, Marcus gasped as he took in the contorted expression, the lifeless eyes, and glassy skin.

"Mrs. Sanchez, call 911," he said, hoping to spare her the sight.

"Why? Is he sick?" she asked, bustling over.

Then she screamed.

* * *

"Hey!"

Castle turned at the sound of his wife entering, and paused only to give the sauce a final stir and turn the heat down low before rounding the kitchen counter to wrap her in his arms, her now obvious bump resting between them.

"Hey. You're home early." He brushed his lips against her temple and gave her another squeeze, trailing one hand across her bump in greeting to that little one, too. Releasing her, he nudged her toward one of the bar stools.

"I was stuck at 1PP all afternoon, so I just came straight home instead of going back to the 12th like I planned," she grinned at him, the little dimple in her cheek showing how not sorry she was to have cut out of work.

He couldn't stop the smile spreading across his own face as he crossed to the fridge, pulling out some juice and waving it at her in question. "Were all your meetings dreadfully boring? I could have kept you entertained via text, you know."

"Yes, please," she said in answer to the juice, waiting for him to pull out two glasses before continuing. "Not too bad. Edmunds over at the 18th is retiring, and it looks like Snaith is going to be promoted to take his place, which means I'll be able to promote Esposito to Sergeant by the end of the month."

Castle paused with the glass halfway to his mouth. "That'll be different. What'll happen to Ryan?"

She drained half her glass. "I'll probably reshuffle a few people, put him in charge of his own team. Espo won't have as much time for field work anymore. Ryan'll be ok. I can think of several detectives who could learn a lot from him."

He couldn't stop the slightly wistful twist to his lips. "It all changes, doesn't it?"

Kate stood, rounding the island so she could slide her arms around his waist. "Just because things will be different doesn't mean they will be bad, babe."

He hummed in contentment as she nuzzled into him, and was just stooping to kiss her when–

The chirping ring of her phone sounded through the quiet.

"Of course, some things never change," he muttered as she fished the device out of her pocket.

"Beckett," she barked. "Whoa... Ryan, slow down... Uh huh... Yeah... No, you did the right thing. Text me the address? We'll come on down. Take care of him."

His grip on her tightened as the words spilled out, and he looked down at her in consternation.

"There's been a murder," she said.

* * *

Castle nodded to Officer Hernandez as he followed Kate into the apartment, the lingering odor of death so familiar now that he barely noticed it greeting him at the door, only to stop short and brace himself against his wife's hips to keep from walking into her in the narrow space. She shot an annoyed look over her shoulder at him for breaking the "no touching at work" rule (which he promptly disregarded, sliding his hands between them to gently massage the small of her back) and turned her attention to Ryan, whose hair and tie were both uncharacteristically askew.

"Thanks for coming, Captain. I didn't know what to do," Ryan greeted them quietly.

"You did the right thing, Kevin. Where is he?" Kate asked.

"In the bedroom, talking to the colleague who found the body. Officer Aragon is in there, too. I told her to keep an eye on him, given the situation."

Kate turned just enough to exchange a glance with Castle, easing away so he dropped his hands before stepping forward, leading both men into the living room where Lanie and CSU were busy securing the scene. "Speaking of, why don't you give us a rundown of the situation?"

Ryan began speaking as they wove their way carefully across the room. "Meet Andy McLaughlin, 36 years old, former Special Forces and current employee of Willis Security. Body was found when one of his colleagues, Marcus Garner, asked the super, Theresa Sanchez, to help check on him after he was a no-show at work today and didn't answer any of his calls."

Lanie glanced up as they approached, relief at her friend's presence obvious on her face. "He's been dead for a couple of days. My best guess right now is Friday night some time, but I can't be more specific till I get him back to the morgue. Judging from his facial contortion which suggests sudden loss of oxygen..."

The thrill of knowledge burned through Castle as he took in the almost-full tequila bottle on the coffee table and the shot glass lying on the carpet at the victim's feet, and he interrupted her. "He was poisoned!"

Lanie shot him a glare, but nodded all the same. "I don't know yet for sure, obviously, but at this point, that's what it looks like."

Kate nodded. "The question is, then, was this a murder or did he O.D. on purpose?"

Castle nudged her. "There's another shot glass on the table, so he probably wasn't drinking alone."

Kate glanced at the table in question and nodded again. "I'm going to talk to Esposito."

* * *

Kate paused at the door of the tiny bedroom, watching as Esposito finished up with his final questions. Catching Officer Aragon's eye, she gave a half smile and a jerk of her head. Marissa nodded in understanding, casting Esposito a long look before escorting Marcus out of the room and away from the crime scene.

Esposito scowled at the sight of his Captain.

"I'm fine, Beckett."

"No, Javi, you're not," she replied simply, and she watched as his jaw worked, biting back his response. "I would be worried if you were."

The fire of rebellion in his eyes died to simmering embers, and he lowered his head. "No matter how many times you cross that tape, nothing prepares you for seeing a friend..." his voice broke.

Kate walked to the tiny window, giving him a moment to regroup. "Tell me about him?"

"Andy was in my unit when I was in the Special Forces. He and Miguel Santiago were my two closest friends. We've always been tight – maybe not so much lately, with things happening at the precinct, I hadn't seen him in a few months. But look, Beckett. I know what you're going to say. He was my friend. I'm too close. I can't be on the case. I get it. I'd be saying that to me, too. But Kate, he was my friend. I need to do this. Please."

All the times Esposito had stood by her side flashed through her mind. All her own history of being "too close," and how that very connection had so often been the extra push needed to find justice. Her responsibilities as Captain, her training and knowledge of exactly what could go wrong if she granted his request.

Shaking her head, she sighed. "Ryan takes lead on this one."

"Captain-" he started to object.

Steel in her voice, she stared him down. "It's my final order, Detective."

"Yes, ma'am." The fire in his eyes did not abate, and Kate arched an eyebrow, working her tongue into her cheek to refrain from further comment. Had it been anyone else, she might have called them out for insubordination, but she knew her friend, and she understood his hurt, his driving need to solve this - possibly better than anyone.

A knock sounded behind them, and they turned to find Ryan hovering, concern for his partner etched on his features. "Captain, we found something."

* * *

Castle slapped a photograph onto the murder board, the paper gleaming with an image of the rather ornate women's bracelet that had been found at the crime scene, and turned to his friends with triumph. "His girlfriend did it! Boring, but in this case, I think we're all hoping for an easy solve?"

Beckett and Ryan were both nodding, but Esposito stood staunch, his arms crossed.

"He didn't have a girlfriend, bro."

"Wh- he didn't?" Castle floundered.

"Espo, you said you hadn't seen him in six months?" Beckett added.

"He joined the armed forces after his wife and kid were killed in a car accident. He was raised in the system, so they were the only family he ever had. He always said she was his soulmate, that there would never be anyone else. And I don't remember him ever even looking at another woman. I may not have seen him lately, but I just can't see that changing." The creases in his forehead were the only indication of how hard it was for him to speak about his friend this way.

"So he has no family?"

Esposito shook his head. "He and Miguel shared a place over in Queens until Miguel got married in May. That's the last time I saw either of them. He was quiet, you know? A thinker. Didn't make a lot of friends."

"If Miguel is the guy who knew him best, we need to talk to him."

"I'll give him a call, have him come in."

* * *

"Hey, man, it's good to see you! What's up, Kev?" Miguel Santiago wasn't much taller than Esposito, handsome, with a stocky build and piercing, dark eyes. The men exchanged back slaps in greeting.

"Thanks for coming in. Let's go into the break room where it's a little quieter," Esposito replied, leading Ryan and Miguel away from the bustle of the bullpen.

"Is everything okay?" Miguel asked as he settled himself on one of the lumpy couches.

"There's no easy way to say this, but Andy was found dead in his apartment this evening," Espo said, his voice soft.

Miguel swore under his breath, covering his face with his hands. He stayed that way for several long moments, before swiping at his eyes as he lifted his head once more. "Are you serious? No way."

"Sorry, bro. I know you two were tight."

He sank back against the cushions. "I just can't believe it. What happened?"

Esposito sighed. "We're still trying to figure that out. It looks like he might have been poisoned."

Miguel swore again.

Ryan broke into the conversation, his blue eyes wide with sympathy. "Listen, you were his best friend. Did he have any enemies? Anyone who wanted to hurt him?"

Miguel shook his head. "No way. Espo can tell you - Andy didn't make friends easily. He's - he was - a gentle giant."

"No girlfriend? No one new in his life?"

"Actually… actually, yeah, just recently I think he started seeing someone."

"Wait, what? Are you telling me Andy had a girlfriend?" Espo raised his eyebrows.

"I'm not sure. It was right around the time that Chrissie left me, so I was a mess, man. Andy stopped coming around like he used to, and I think there was a woman involved. He never said anything, though, so I never knew for sure."

"Chrissie left you? After just a few months?" Esposito blew out a deep breath as guilt crept over him for not paying attention to his old friends. "I can't believe Andy would keep something like that from you."

"Yeah, sorry man. I should've kept you in the loop. And yeah, Andy was spending a lot of time and money on the broad, but he never let me meet her – I got the feeling that maybe she was bad news, you know?"

"No way, man. Andy was smart, he wouldn't have gone for someone who was trouble."

Ryan shuffled in his seat awkwardly. "Hey, I know this is hard, but I have to ask - where were you on Friday night?"

Miguel shrugged. "I was at work till late, then I stopped by Artie's bar on the way home, like I do most Fridays. I hadn't seen Andy for a few weeks, just with life happening. Listen, would it be cool for me to stick around for a bit, see how this plays out?"

A knock sounded at the break room door, and Vikram popped his head in. "Uh, guys? You know how you asked me to look into Andy's financials? His credit card was active twenty minutes ago."

"The card was used at the country club in the Oakfield Ridge gated community in Greenwich, Connecticut."

The group, minus Castle, was gathered around the murder board: Ryan and Esposito giving Vikram their full attention, Miguel hovering in the background as if he was unsure he was allowed to be there but desperate for any information they had. Kate already had a whiteboard marker in hand and scrawled the information as Vikram spoke.

"A country club in Connecticut?" Ryan echoed.

"Why does that name sound familiar?" Kate mumbled to herself, tapping the whiteboard marker on her chin.

"I can't see Andy being the country-club type." Esposito was squinting at the words as if they were written in a foreign language.

"No, but his mystery woman might well be. We don't know anything about her," Kate replied.

Esposito frowned. "So how do we do this? Want Ryan and me to head up there and start asking questions? Would they even let us past the gate?"

Ryan looked at Kate. "Can we get a warrant? Without one, we probably can't find out who used the card."

Kate pursed her lips. "Even with a warrant, there's not a high chance. That kind of club prides itself on discretion. There's unlikely to be cameras at the bar, and the staff are paid to not remember those kinds of details."

Vikram lifted a finger as he spoke, as if raising his hand in class to get attention. "Going by what I've been able to find so far, the country club is exclusive to members of the community."

"So that narrows our pool of suspects down to – what, about a hundred and fifty people?" Espo fixed him with a solid glare.

Vikram shifted his weight. "Roughly."

Ryan sighed. "And without an invite from a resident or a warrant we won't even get past the gate."

From behind them, Miguel spoke up "You guys are cops! Can't you… I don't know, go undercover or something?"

Before Beckett could ask why Miguel was listening in, Esposito nodded, brightening. "Hey, yeah, why not? Whaddaya say, Ryan? Think I could pull off the country club look?" He shoved Ryan in the shoulder when the others started to chuckle, and rounded on his partner for joining in. "Why are you laughing, man? I can totally be country club."

Miguel was the first to recover from his amusement. "You, bro? That place is full of rich white people. Only way they'd let you in is if they thought you were the gardener."

"And even then, they'd look through you, not talk to you," Vikram added.

"No, man, you need someone who would fit in with them, someone who reeks of money, not of cop. Someone like…"

He was interrupted by the elevator doors opening and Castle's jovial voice ringing through the bullpen. "Here you go, Captain, one peppermint white chocolate, just as the little one ordered- Ooooh, Oakfield Ridge, Connecticut? You didn't tell me you got a new lead! Didn't Bob Weldon say at my book party that he had just come from a function there, hosted by the Police Commissioner's sister? Remember, Kate? He said she was a fan, and that we should head up there some time to meet her."

Kate accepted the drink and gave him her patented 'I'm in love with a goofball' look as she sipped, while everyone else stared at Castle, open-mouthed.

"...Someone like them," Miguel finished.


	2. Chapter 2

Oakfield Ridge was a sprawling community of classic, villa-style homes set well back from the avenue lined with the stately, mature oak trees from which the community's name was derived. Beneath the trees, walkways wound between manicured gardens, drawing pedestrians down to the man-made lake at the center of the community, surrounded by shrubs and, on calm sunny days, perfectly mirroring the country club nestled in prime position.

The Ferrari was waved through with only minimal pause at the gate, and Kate lifted her sunglasses to balance them on top of her head so she could take in their surroundings as her husband guided the car down the avenue.

"So, what do you think? Considering giving up city life for suburbia?" Castle asked, breaking the tranquility.

She grinned at him. "No. The city is my home; I love it there. This is beautiful, though."

He turned expertly into the driveway of Number 15, a beautiful three-story home made of white stone, with a fountain in the center of the circular driveway, surrounded by pristine formal gardens and a lawn that stretched out like a carpet. Before she could move to get out, he settled a hand on her knee.

"Whatever makes you happy, Kate. If you ever change your mind and decide you want something like this - just remember, I can write from anywhere." His blue eyes were filled with earnest devotion, and she leaned across to brush her lips against his.

Whatever she might have replied was lost as the front door swung open and a woman stepped out.

She was in her early sixties, with hair that had once been blonde, and wide, blue eyes. Diminutive in height, she nevertheless had an athletic build and grace in her movements. She was dressed casually in a green blouse, floral skirt, low heels, and pearls.

"Welcome! I'm so pleased you could make it! I'm Susan Chesterfield. Did you have a pleasant drive? Do come in!"

Kate exited the car before Castle could make it around to open her door for her, striding forward to shake their hostess's hand. "I'm Kate Beckett, and this is my husband, Rick Castle. Thank you so much for opening your home to us!"

Susan's grin only widened as she took in Kate's baby bump. "Captain Beckett, my brother, the Commissioner, speaks very highly of you. I'm always happy to help the NYPD in any way I can. And Mr. Castle! I'm such a fan. Derrick Storm holds a special place in my heart, and Nikki Heat is my all-time favorite fictional character; I just love that series! I've already devoured your latest."

Castle's grin was charming as he shook her hand. "Please, call me Rick. And the only reason Nikki is extraordinary is that she was inspired by my even more remarkable wife."

Susan beamed at them both in grandmotherly fashion and began to lead them inside the tiled, three-storied entryway, past the grand staircase and chandelier that made Kate hide a gasp, and into a surprisingly open and sunny sitting room where a slightly balding gentleman in his mid-60s sat reading a newspaper. "We have just enough time for refreshments before tonight. Rick, leave the bags. This is my husband, Howard. He will come help you bring them in once we've had something to drink. Please have a seat! Your timing is perfect, you know. We have a community barbecue down at the club tonight; everyone will be there. Don't you worry, now, Howard and I will simply introduce you as friends of ours. We won't mention anything about why you're here. Howard, be a lamb and fetch our guests a drink?"

* * *

Kate stepped out of the ensuite bathroom into their enormous guest bedroom wearing an emerald-green cocktail dress that flattered her bump, her hair swept up into an elegant twist, to find her husband deliberating between two different superhero t-shirts.

"I hope you're planning your sleepwear right now," she commented, raising an eyebrow at him as his eyes bulged at her dress.

"Kate… You… Wow. I mean, really, wow. But, um… didn't she say this was a casual barbecue? I was thinking of going with Green Lantern for tonight." He held the shirt up.

Kate remained unmoved. "Castle, if I see you in anything less than a jacket and tie, I'm leaving you here."

"But they said it would be casual!" he objected.

"Oh, please, these people don't know the meaning of the word casual. You should know better than me."

"Green Lantern would be perfectly acceptable for a casual barbecue in the Hamptons," he argued.

"We aren't in the Hamptons, and no 'casual barbecue' at a country club in the suburbs in November is going to be as relaxed as enjoying the beach in August. Just... put on a suit, Rick? Please?"

His eyes swept down her form once more, and he sighed.

"Fine, but if we're overdressed, I'm blaming you."

* * *

"Kate, darling, you look ravishing!" Susan gushed as she greeted them at the bottom of the stairs. She was wearing a coral cocktail dress and had replaced her pearls with some modest diamonds. Howard, likewise, had changed from business shirt and slacks into a full suit.

Kate couldn't help sending her husband an arched eyebrow and saw him mutter something under his breath. He looked dashing as ever in his forest-green shirt and deep charcoal suit and tie. The colors brought out the blue in his eyes, and it didn't hurt that his shirt was only a few shades darker than her dress, so they looked effortlessly coordinated without being kitschy.

"Thank you so much! I'm sure it's the grand entrance as much as anything, though. That chandelier is divine! And you look gorgeous in that color," Kate replied.

Susan beamed. "Thank you, my dear. That chandelier was a gift from Howard on our honeymoon. We bought it in France and had it shipped over here. It holds tremendous sentimental value. But enough of that. Get your coats on, my dears, it's brisk out tonight. Howard, be a lamb and bring the car around?"

* * *

The restaurant, bar, and ballroom at the country club could all be thrown open for events so that members could meander seamlessly between the rooms without ever feeling crowded, even though almost all of the neighborhood's 150-odd residents were present this evening. In spite of the "casual" nature of the gathering, even Susan's diamonds were not overdressed in this crowd.

"These gatherings are arranged by the social club. Those women basically run this place, and the rest of us oldies are happy to let them. You'll notice that most of the people are my age," Susan murmured to Kate with a wink as they checked their coats.

Kate found herself scanning the ballroom, and it seemed Susan was correct. There were a handful of older children and bored-looking teenagers, and a few more people around her age - more women than men fitting that description - but the vast majority were middle-aged or older. While it was possible for Andy's mystery woman to be significantly older than him - she had certainly witnessed much stranger twists in her career - she found herself breathing a sigh of relief as the number of likely suspects was significantly lower than she had originally feared.

She wished she could treat this like a normal investigation, slip over to the bar and ask about the credit card and security tapes with nothing but a flash of her badge. But the risks were too great, the threat of alienating members of the seemingly tightly-bound community too prominent to ignore.

"So how do we get an introduction?" Kate asked, settling for the possibility of conversation providing new leads, and Susan winked at her with a conspiratorial smile.

"It would be incredibly rude of me not to introduce my guests to the committee chairwoman immediately, don't you think? Howard, be a lamb and fetch me a drink? Kate, Rick, come this way."

* * *

"Susan! Darling, you look fantastic!"

"Jacqui, that color is divine on you!"

The two women gushed at each other and exchanged air kisses before Susan turned to draw Kate and Rick into the conversation. "These are friends of mine from New York, spending a few nights here with us. Kate and Rick, I'd like you to meet Jacqui Lancaster, the chairwoman of our social committee."

Jacqui was a stunning blonde only a year or two younger than Kate, wearing a shimmering sky-blue dress that perfectly matched the luminous hue of her eyes. She cast one single calculating look over the pair of them as if to sum up whether they were worthy of her attention, and then beamed. Apparently, they passed whatever test she had.

"It's always a pleasure to meet new friends. Speaking of, Kate, Rick, meet two other members of our little committee - Amy Davenport and Liz Wilford. Girls, these two are staying with the Chesterfields."

Greetings and pleasantries were exchanged. Amy was a brunette, the youngest of the three, and Liz was a sandy blonde a year or two older.

"So what brings you to Oakfield Ridge?" Liz asked, and Kate glanced at her husband, allowing him to answer for them both.

Castle took it all in stride. "As you can see, we're in the family way," he began, his hand coming around to squeeze Kate's hip, "and we haven't decided yet whether city life will be the best option for our new arrival. A good friend of mine is also a friend of Susan and Howard, and suggested we come up here and take a look around, see if it suits us."

Susan backed him up amiably. "I'm taking them up tomorrow to call on Geoffrey and Anne Munroe - they're looking to move to a retirement facility soon, and we all know how draining it can be to sell up and move on."

Jacqui's smile brightened. "Why, they're our next-door neighbors! We're sad to see them go, of course, but it will be lovely to have some new folks in our community! Where are my manners, I haven't even fetched you a drink yet. What can I get you?"

"Just orange juice for me, thanks, and he'll have a Scotch," Kate smiled.

Jacqui snagged one of the servers, a timid looking African-American woman, and Kate raised her eyebrows at the reassuring hand Jacqui kept on her arm as she spoke, as well as the gentle tone. "Tina, a Scotch and an orange juice for our friends, please."

Tina nodded and scuttled away.

Susan's voice murmured in Kate's ear. "The social club often bring in some of the domestic staff from the neighborhood to help with these functions. Tina is Jacqui's housekeeper."

"So what's it like living here?" Castle asked smoothly. "One thing we're both concerned about is that we would miss the city too much if we moved up here. Do any of you go down there regularly?"

'What's the matter, Rick? Are you worried you might find life with us boring?" Jacqui's slightly flirtatious tone was just enough to send the blood roaring through Kate's ears, but Castle didn't seem to notice.

Howard interrupted them then, finally bringing over Susan's drink with a mumbled apology. "Did your phone call come in?" Susan asked him, and as he shook his head, she explained to her guests, "Howard is semi-retired, but he's still fielding phone calls to Tokyo and who knows where else at all hours of the day and night. I'm sure Tokyo will call later."

Tina returned with their drinks just as Liz drew her two friends away. "Yes, well, it was lovely to meet you both, but we need to press on with the evening," she said. Amy smiled at them politely and followed.

Jacqui turned back to Rick, all but ignoring Kate next to him. "I'll be sure to keep an eye out for you tomorrow when you visit Geoff and Anne," she said with a wink, sauntering off behind her friends.

* * *

Castle had always had an incredible ability to draw attention, a charisma about him that undoubtedly played a role in his rise to whatever level of fame he had. That attracted people to him with ease, allowing them to see flashes of his life, his personality, that had the power to distract from other things, have a room full of people turning towards him.

He used it to his advantage—to _their_ advantage—in moments such as these.

Kate's hand had drifted along his spine until she could squeeze his hip, draw her attention down to her. She pressed onto her toes to whisper her request into his ear, be subtle in her demand that he distract the crowd so she could slip away.

She stepped up to the bar, slipping onto one of the stools. The young man standing across from her offered a smile, gaze tripping over her body only to land on the swell of her stomach, made more prominent by her dress.

Mentally cursing her newfound inability to attempt flirting as a method of obtaining information, she returned the upturn of his lips.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Sure."

"Has anyone used a credit card belonging to Andy McLaughlin here recently?" she asked, fingers tripping across the bar as she glanced at him in a show of feigned innocence, naivety to the inappropriate nature to the question. "He's a friend of mine who recently had his card stolen, and since then he got a charge from here but he's never been here."

The bartender regarded her with furrowed brows for a moment before shaking his head, setting aside the glass he'd been wiping off. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I can't tell you that," he said, reaching for another cup.

She fought to keep her face from pinching with disappointment, continuing her show for the young man. "What about hypothetically?"

"Why do you want to know?" he countered.

"Hypothetically?"

"Sure." He shrugged again.

She let her hand slip from the bar at that, straightening in her seat, arms crossing over the surface between them. "What if I told you I am hypothetically investigating a homicide," she asked, watching him look up with piqued interest, "and that credit card purchase is our only lead."

The bartender cleared his throat, setting the second glass aside before mirroring her stance. "I would hypothetically need a search warrant."

Swallowing back a sigh, she forced a smile. "Could you at least tell me if a search warrant would be any use?" she asked. "Hypothetically."

"Honestly?" he asked. "Probably not. We don't have cameras around here, not at the bar, at any rate. The members don't like feeling like they're being watched when their inhibitions get loose."

She nodded her understanding.

"Believe me," he continued, "I could tell you some stories. But that just leaves the bar staff's memories, and even if you could tell us what drink was ordered it would be unlikely they would remember, because just about everyone pays by credit card."

Another nod, and she tilted back in her seat at the realization that her search would be in vain.

"So hypothetically? I'm genuinely sorry that we can't help you, but we really can't," he finished, punctuating the words with an apologetic grimace.

But she understood, smiling at him as she started to slip from her seat. "Well, thank you anyway," she said, "for helping me with my hypothetical situation."

He smiled once more before she turned away, to where Castle maintained the attention of most members of the crowd as he spoke about his latest book. She rolled her eyes at his shameless self-promotion during a case, but found herself returning to his side, slipping under the arm he held out to her when he saw her approaching.

They'd need his charm, anyway, since it seemed that undercover work would be their own chance at a lead.


	3. Chapter 3

Geoff and Anne's house stood tall, its shadow looming over the long brick driveway. White shutters framed the windows, pale red brick exterior giving it a soft appeal and simple beauty, while expertly carved details edged the roof and perfectly groomed landscaping reminded Kate, once again, of the high value of those homes.

The people living there had very high standards.

Despite her subtle distaste for planned communities such as this one, she couldn't help admiring the beautiful homes and their attention to detail. Next to her, Castle must have noted her admiring the building before them, his seatbelt clicking from around his waist before the car had completely drawn to a stop. He slid across the bench of the back seat, his hand splaying across her thigh as he pressed himself to her side, lips finding the shell of her ear to keep his words from being overheard by Susan and Howard.

"You like it?" he asked, punctuating the sentence with a smile that bloomed and pressed to the side of her face.

Her gaze lingered on Geoff and Anne's home as she answered without hesitating. "It's beautiful."

His hand tightened on her leg at the words, drawing her eyes from the car window to look at him instead. She caught the darkness of honesty in his eyes, the certainty that lingered there behind the gleam of love when he looked down at her. His smile didn't fade, no matter the serious tone he took, the promise he spoke into the silence.

"We could do it, you know," he said. "Move to the suburbs, someplace like this where we'd have an actual house, a yard for the baby to enjoy as he or she grows up. We could even get a pet, or—"

"Castle," she interrupted. "We already have an actual house, with a yard, in the Hamptons." Her hand came up, landed on his cheek as she smiled in gentle reassurance. "And we could get a pet in the city. Unless _you_ want to move to the suburbs?"

She watched as his smile widened, felt the gentle shake of his head against her palm as his response. "You know I love the loft, the city, and I loved raising Alexis in New York," he said, "but I thought you might want a change now that…things are changing."

Hand still at his cheek, she leaned up, kissed him softly, the swell of her baby bump pressing against his stomach as she did. His own hand landed on her waist, tracing the spot below her ribcage where the stretch of her belly began.

She smiled up at him when she pulled away. "Just because one thing is changing, doesn't mean everything has to change," she promised. "For now, as long as you're happy, I think we're okay with the loft and the house in the Hamptons."

"Oh, I'm definitely happy, Kate," he said.

It was then that there was movement from the front seat, Susan peering over her shoulder to smile at them. "How sweet!" she gushed. "Are you ready, dears?"

Kate nodded, Castle doing the same at her side.

Susan turned away, towards her husband sitting in the driver's seat. "Howard, be a lamb and get Kate's door for her?"

* * *

Geoff and Anne were a lovely couple, kindhearted and loving, doting over each other and their guests for the entirety of the visit. They'd explained Geoff's health issues, the gradual worsening that had eventually led them to accept the need to leave their home. But they'd also explained the advantages, the joys of living in the community, expressing their sadness at their need to leave. And they'd spent much of their time asking Kate and Rick about their life, their jobs and relationship, congratulating them for the baby on the way with stories of their own now-grown children.

After Geoff left, offering numerous apologies for his afternoon nap, and the conversation had turned to girl talk, Castle and Howard had retreated to the far end of the room. But Howard had since left to take a call from Tokyo, leaving Castle to linger in his own seat next to the chair Howard had vacated.

After a moment, he stood, slipping outside and walking back along the path they'd taken to reach the driveway. He was intent on checking his phone, which he'd left in the car, for updates on the case. He reached the vehicle, but before he could check if the door was locked, a voice called from behind him.

He turned to see who it was, finding Jacqui in her front yard, a floppy sunhat casting shadows across her face. She had a watering can sitting by her feet, bright pink gloves drawing his attention to her hands for a moment as he realized she'd been taking care of a small portion of the garden, where roses bloomed.

"Have you had the chance to see the house?" she asked.

He swallowed, but found himself shifting closer. Perhaps, if he played his cards right, he could use this to their advantage in catching a lead on the case. He forced his charming smile, the same one he typically offered at book launch parties and signings.

"We did," he told her. "It's a beautiful home, but I think Kate is still slightly torn on the neighborhood. We both grew up in the city, you know? I don't think either of us truly know what to expect of somewhere like this."

Jacqui smiled back at him. She made a show of drawing the gloves from her hands and stepping gently across the strip of lawn between them. "Well, if you're talking about the people, I, personally, find them to be wonderful."

"You do?" he asked. "May I ask why?"

Her grin only grew, gaze tracing the rows of houses surrounding them. "Everyone is kind, very polite. Most of us have quite a lot in common, so it makes making friends rather easy," she explained. "I'm sure you and your wife would fit in marvelously."

He nodded thoughtfully, turning back to her after a moment. "So nothing… scandalous happens around here, I take it?"

Jacqui's gaze flicked back to his, eyes wider than normal as she spoke. "Scandalous… how?" she asked. "Like, affairs?"

Words welled thick in his chest, revealing too much of their true motivations for being here, and he swallowed them back, forced a shrug instead. "Something like that," he said.

Her eyes stayed wide, locked on his for a moment, before drifting along the length of his body. He watched as recognition flickered in Jacqui's eyes, a grin spreading wide across her face as she stepped towards him, a little too close for comfort.

He would have protested if her next words didn't have hope for the case flaring within him.

"Oh, I see what you want," she said. "Well, _Rick_ , if you meet me in the country club basement tonight, _alone_ , maybe I could give you just that."

His lips parted around a response when the opening of the door echoed in the air around them, had his gaze drifting over to where Kate and Susan were bidding Anne farewell. He saw Anne rest a hand delicately on the swell of Kate's baby bump before she turned away, the words she spoke being too quiet for him to hear from so far away, but enough to have Kate smiling when she turned back in his general direction.

He rushed to turn back to Jacqui, noted then that she'd stepped away to put more respectable distance between them. "Okay," he agreed. "I'll see you then."

It was then that Kate and Susan reached them, both offering pleasant greetings to Jacqui, Kate sparing only a quick, curious glance in his direction before slipping back into character.

* * *

Susan and Howard offered them the freedom to enjoy time on their own when they got back to the house. It only took Kate a moment to slide a palm over her baby bump and announce that she might settle in for a nap because the baby was still draining her of energy, inviting him to join her, giving them the perfect excuse to slip away to talk.

He agreed, of course, found himself following her up the stairs, a hand splayed at her spine and lips smudging a soft kiss to the side of her head.

"Are we really napping?" he mumbled.

She turned to look at him, gaze flicking between his lips and his eyes from beneath her lashes, a sultry darkness swirling in her pupils as she spoke. "Maybe, if you play your cards right."

He groaned, muffled it against her hair as she led him to the bedroom Susan and Howard had set up for them. As soon as the door clicked closed behind them, she slipped from his grasp, turning to face him with steeled features, curiosity evident in her eyes.

Back in detective mode, he noted.

"What did Jacqui have to say?" she asked.

He smiled, hearing the excited lilt in his own voice when he answered. "She agreed to meet with me to talk, tonight in the basement of the country club."

Kate smiled at that, arms crossing over her chest as she nodded in satisfaction. "That's great," she said. "We can ask her about the case, gauge her reactions to–" She paused, must have noted the part of his lips, the wince of his features. "What?"

"She agreed to meet with _me_ ," he repeated. "Alone."

"Castle, you can't meet her alone."

"Why not?"

She sighed, stepping closer to him. Instead of reaching for him, her hand landed on her belly in that protective way he'd noticed she'd started doing when she was worried. "Because she could be our mystery woman, or the killer. You can't just walk into a basement, alone, with a woman you barely know." She paused again, stepped even closer, worry flashing even brighter in her eyes. "What if she tries to kill you?"

His gaze fell pointedly to her baby bump. "Then I wouldn't want you there, anyway," he answered. "But you'll know where I am, and I'll have my phone, and I've handled worse, Kate. I can do this."

"You have no idea what she's thinking, what she wants," she countered.

He smiled, hoping it was somewhat reassuring. "I'll just try to ask her some questions, get some information about the case. She seemed willing to share," he explained. "I really don't think she's the killer, Kate. Her husband is rich, what use would she have for Andy's credit card?" He paused, as she kept staring at him. "I promise, it's just to talk."

She hesitated, didn't say a word as his arm looped at her waist, drew her into his arms to lock her in his embrace. He pressed a kiss to her head, breathing reassurance against her temple.

"I'll be okay."

And, at last, she sighed, sinking against his chest. "Okay. You can go."

* * *

Ryan glanced at the phone in his hand, screen alight with a message from Beckett, as he stepped into the morgue. He shoved it back in his pocket as he noticed Lanie leaning over the victim's body, looking up at him only as the door fell shut.

"You have something for me?" he asked.

He watched as Lanie drew back from her work. She shed the gloves, dropping them into the nearby trashcan.

"Yup," she said. "Your vic's C.O.D."

"Poisoning?"

Lanie rolled her eyes, a laugh tumbling from her lips as she stepped around the table. She leaned against her desk, swiping a form from its surface and holding it out to him. He took it, staring down at the confusing jumble of names and numbers and chemical codes.

"How long have you been a detective, again?" teased Lanie. "I know what he was poisoned with."

Ryan looked up at her. "And?"

"Cyanide."

His brow furrowed as he looked back down at the page in his hand, realized he still didn't understand any of it, and handed it back to Lanie. He looked over to where the victim lay on her examination table, found himself swallowing back the rise of bile in his throat at the memory of how pale Esposito had gone when they first saw the crime scene.

"Any idea where it came from?" he forced himself to ask, turning back to Lanie.

She shrugged. "It's not easy to get; it can be manufactured if you have the right equipment, but mostly it's kept under lock and key. Pharmacies, some schools could have it for chemistry," she explained, "but I can't tell you where exactly it came from. That's your job. Oh, and both the bottle and the other shot glass were a bust - no prints on either, other than the vic's. Same as the bracelet."

He nodded, glancing at the victim one last time.

Lanie must have noticed, setting down the forms, losing the strict, smart M.E. persona as it faded to compassion and quiet concern.

"How's Javi?" she asked.

His gaze caught hers once more. "He's taking it pretty hard, but between this and the news that Castle and Beckett might have a lead…" He trailed off, shook his head. "Making progress in the case should help."

"You haven't found any other leads?" she asked.

"I spoke to the security company Andy worked for, they looked through his recent assignments. It's all been run-of-the-mill event work—they had a big antique show booked this week that he didn't show for. There haven't been any major incidents logged—it seems Andy was good at defusing situations," said Ryan.

Lanie hummed. "That's it?"

"There's nothing else out of the ordinary—his neighbors and colleagues hadn't noticed any other differences, there's not even any unusual phone activity. Just the credit card. Javi's… not taking the lack of momentum well."

Lanie didn't respond, simply nodded her head and allowed the silence to linger until he turned to leave.

* * *

Javi eyed the text conversation he'd had with Miguel one last time before stepping into the bar, pushing the door open with his shoulder as he shoved his phone into his pocket.

The bar was quiet, soft music playing over the white noise of idle chatter and conversation, offering an environment he would enjoy under less grim circumstances. The walls were lined with booths, the middle of the room dotted with tables, the bar itself at the far end of the room. It almost reminded him of the Old Haunt, though Castle would argue it lacked the history of the bar they typically frequented.

Miguel had suggested this place upon his request that they meet to catch up. It only took one look over the room for Esposito to spot his friend sitting at the far end of the room, leaning over the bar, head dipped.

He walked over, taking a seat on the stool next to his friend, drawing Miguel's attention when he ordered a beer for himself. The bottle came within seconds, the bartender offering a smile when he agreed to start a tab.

"How are you holding up?" he asked Miguel after a moment, taking a sip of his drink to punctuate the sentence.

Miguel scoffed. "You pretty much know. Chrissie left me and now Andy's dead, work's been the same for a long time."

Espo nodded, took another sip of his drink. "What happened between you and Chrissie?"

Miguel turned to look at him, brows furrowed as he stared before he turned away. He took a swig of his own beer, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth as he slammed the bottle back onto the wooden surface of the bar.

"Hell if I know," he answered. "She just up and left one day, haven't heard from her since."

Esposito felt his own brow furrow, confusion lacing in his mind, only to hide it as he took yet another sip of his beer. He'd met Chrissie quite a few times. She hardly seemed like the type to just leave.

"She didn't say why?"

Miguel turned to him, jaw squared, a certain glare in his eyes. "Not a word. Part of why it was so hard to deal with it, you know?"

He nodded in response, didn't have the words to explain because he wasn't sure he did; he had never truly had a relationship end so abruptly as Miguel made it seem.

"Andy was helping me deal with it," added Miguel.

 _That_ he could work with, use to move the conversation towards more familiar ground. Perhaps safer ground, if the subtle anger now radiating from his friend was anything to go by. He turned back towards the bar, stared at the grain of the wood just as Miguel seemed to be.

"Andy was pretty good at that," he said, "helping people."

"That he was," agreed Miguel. "Remember that time we ran into that ambush, after Andy had warned us, but he still ran after us and saved our asses? He didn't even say 'I told you so.'"

A chuckle bubbled from Esposito at the memory, however somber it should be. "Yeah," he breathed, "but I only got into that 'cause you asked me to."

"Still played a part in almost gettin' us killed," said Miguel.

That thought—the endless possibilities of what could have been—was more somber, killed the laughter at the good times they'd had while serving together. The outcome they faced was quite possibly the best they could have hoped for, with most of their team alive and well.

"Yeah, I guess we really owe Andy for getting us out of that tour," he agreed. "He really saved our lives that day."

Miguel nodded, silent for a moment before turning to him at last. "You make any progress on catching his killer?" he asked.

Esposito sighed. "Miguel–"

"Dude, I know what you're going to say," he interrupted. "But Andy saved my life more than once. I just wanna know if you're making any progress on catching the guy that killed him. Come on, help a buddy out."

He swallowed back a second sigh, forcing the shaky hesitation from his voice when he spoke. "You know I can't share info on an ongoing investigation," he said.

Miguel glared at that. "Please, Javier," he said. "I'd do it for you."

And he knew he shouldn't, could hear the logical part of his mind screaming at him not to. But Miguel was his friend, memories of all the times they'd almost died together—with Andy at their side—flashing through his mind and silencing his apprehension, his will to follow the rules and keep the information Miguel requested private.

"Fine," he heard himself say before their latest leads were falling from his lips.


	4. Chapter 4

The neighborhood fell silent at night, when the sun sank beneath the horizon and rooftops gleamed with moonlight. Living and dining room windows glowed with life, a flutter of movement, shadows cast across the light like films of quiet, simple existences. Snapshots of life in the suburbs, in a rich, quiet community that fell asleep with the sun, unlike the city he called home.

Rick wondered, for a moment, what it would be like to live there. Kate, their baby, and a house almost similar to that in the Hamptons. A perfectly manicured lawn and garden and a silent ease to life that the city would never offer. Perhaps a pet, and their child growing up where they could go out and play and not worry, and where death wouldn't constantly be creeping up on his or her parents.

He wondered, thought about Kate's quiet offer to consider it if it was what he wanted. But it wasn't. Even after just a couple days, he missed the bustle of the city, the white noise of existing around so many other people. He'd long for the opportunity to walk a few blocks to go to the market or get a coffee, to show his child the culture and evidence of brilliant human feats like he'd had the chance to show Alexis when she was young.

And Kate, she'd miss it, too.

They were both city people, born and bred. It was in their blood. The quiet life was satisfactory for a temporary escape, but they needed the rush of life in New York.

Perhaps one day they wouldn't, but at that moment he found the certainty that staying home would be best settling in his gut as much as it had seemed to gleam in her eyes.

Even more so when he pulled the Ferrari into the parking lot at the country club, gaze drifting along the rows of empty spots opposite him. The bright headlights seemed to cut through the darkness that had already fallen over the area, glaring evidence of his presence where few others seemed to be. That was it, a few cars to his left, leading to the door, and dead silence surrounding the area.

It was a strange thought that this had been the site of a party just the night before, bustling with life, alight with joy. That the windows, now bathed in darkness, had cast light across the lawn, cast shadows of their enjoyment against the interior walls.

He found himself longing, in a way, for the city, the crowd of people he could disappear into if things were to go wrong. For the familiarity of the city he'd grown up knowing, the bustle of constant movement he'd learned to use to his advantage.

Still, he found himself stepping from the car, listening to the echo of his footsteps as he walked to the door.

One hand hovered over the doorknob, the other sliding into his back pocket to grab his phone. He pulled up the text app, intent on sending Kate a message telling her he'd arrived and would talk to her as soon as possible but—

A scream, sharp and keening, cut through the silence, loud enough to have him jumping, eyes cutting to the door at his side.

Had it been cracked when he'd walked up?

He hastened to shove his phone back into his pocket, stumbling over his feet as he pushed the door open with the press of his shoulder. His steps were clumsy as he thundered down the stairs, ignoring the expanse of empty darkness that was the main floor and darting towards what he suspected was the source of the sound.

What if someone had found out about the meeting? Maybe the killer did and was trying to silence Jacqui. Maybe Jacqui _was_ the killer.

Maybe—

He drew to a halt on the bottom step, momentum almost sending him thundering to the floor even when he spotted Jacqui standing there. Her hands were on her hips, eyes caked in dark makeup, body covered in scraps of fabric, strips of black leather that cut across the expanse of her skin and _what_?

"Hello, _Rick_ ," she purred.

"Jacqui," he panted. "The– I heard a scream."

The laugh bubbled darkly from her chest. "Oh, don't worry about that," she said. "Amy and Jake are just having a little _fun_."

Oh. _Oh_.

Fun. As in…

"Come on," she continued, stepping closer to him, resting a hand on his arm. "We could have a little fun of our own."

* * *

Kate settled onto the plush sofa of Susan and Howard's living room, legs crossing as she let herself sink into the embrace of throw pillows at her spine. Susan settled on the opposite corner of the couch, mirroring her stance with politely crossed legs and the fold of her hands over her knees.

"Was dinner okay, dear?" asked Susan.

She nodded her response, hand settling over the curve of her baby bump. "It was lovely, thank you," she said. "The baby greatly enjoyed it, too." She smiled, Susan watching as her hand drifted down along the swell of life beneath her skin.

"That's always high praise," said Susan. She shifted slightly on the couch, turning to face Beckett more fully. "This is your first, is it not?"

"Is it that obvious?"

Susan laughed, a quiet bubble of a chuckle that spilled into the room. "Of course not," she promised. "But you are in the public eye, and I'd only heard of Rick's eldest daughter in his book jackets."

Kate nodded, a smile curling at the corners of her lips. "Ah, right. That would be Alexis," she confirmed. "So no, this isn't his first, but it's our first together."

The response comes first as a hum, soft and light. "You will likely appreciate his experience when the baby arrives," offered Susan, the words spoken as though she thought Kate needed comfort over the fact that her husband already had a child.

A correction that she loved Alexis—was already grateful for the young woman's presence in her life—curled at the tip of her tongue, but Susan continued before she could speak.

"I have to admit, I was taken aback to learn you were expecting," she said.

Kate's gaze fell to her belly, flashes of memory of the day _she'd_ learned she was expecting playing in the back of her mind. Of her shock when Castle had suggested it, the inability to believe it was true when the test first turned positive, the fear that had mixed with it all for those first few weeks of pregnancy.

"Oh?"

Susan shrugged. "Well, your shooting was rather public, given that it, from what I can tell, terminated a ring of corruption within the CIA," she explained. "I simply didn't expect you to be with child so soon afterwards."

"Oh," she repeated, on a quiet chuckle that time, hand still caressing the swell of her baby bump beneath her shirt. "Neither did I, to be honest. This baby was definitely a surprise."

"A good one, I hope?" said Susan. "I know my children were the best things that ever happened to me."

Kate smiled, nodded her head slowly, surely. "It was, once the initial shock wore off," she said. "Having Rick there helped, a lot."

Susan's smile widened, a bloom of affection Kate found comforting to witness, given the otherwise calm, almost emotionless aura the neighborhood seemed to hold. There was a warmth to it, beyond the quiet politeness and soft joy that found its way into simple interactions.

"It does help, to have someone you love there with you, doesn't it?"

Kate felt her lips curl upwards further. "It really does," she agreed. "Speaking of which, will Howard be joining us this evening?"

Susan's smile didn't fade as she waved her hand before her. "Oh, probably not. He tends to hole up in his office and work late in the evenings," she explained, shifting closer to Kate on the couch once more. "If you don't mind my asking, do you know if it's a boy or a girl yet?"

* * *

Jacqui's hand tightened at his arm, drew him back to the present with a rough squeeze at his bicep. He blinked the haze of surprise from his mind, shaking his head to focus on the moment, catch sight of her grin as she tugged lightly on his arm to drag him from the bottom step and deeper into the basement.

"Come on, Rick," she husked. "We don't want to start our fun here."

He didn't want to start _any_ fun with Jacqui, fear and regret already twisting in his gut as he allowed her to lead him down to the basement floor and deeper into the room.

The country club basement consisted predominantly of a hallway, walls painted white and lined with six doors, most closed, a few open. The entire expanse of the floor was covered in hardwood, a sharp contrast to the walls, darkness stretching beyond thresholds of doors, open and closed.

There was a bed and a nightstand in the first room Jacqui led him past. Hooks hung on one of the walls, from which dangled a few pairs of handcuffs, straps of leather, a mask that greatly resembled one Beckett had teased him with so many years before.

"So, uh, what do you guys do down here?" he asked.

Her laugh was dark, as husky as the tone she'd adopted for this alternate persona he was witnessing. The version of Jacqui with mussed hair and dark makeup, stiletto heels and straps of fabric slashing across her skin. "Isn't it obvious?" she asked. "Come on, Rick. I've heard your story. Kate really make you that naive?"

He shook his head instantly, about to respond with a promise that Kate did anything _but_ that, but the shift in his line of sight had his gaze landing beyond one of the open doors.

Liz was standing there, wearing nothing but a corset and a short skirt that puffed out at the waist but barely covered her butt, hair pulled back in a high ponytail and cane clenched in one hand. She was staring at the floor where–

" _Howard?_ "

The older man looked up at him, the worry that gleamed in his eyes almost laughable given his state of dress. Tufts of faux wool framed his face and draped along his back, a ribbon with a bell looped around his neck, making up a lamb costume that was equal parts amusing and bizarre.

But Howard didn't speak, not when Liz tapped him atop the head with her cane, drawing Castle's attention back to her.

"Let me guess, you go by Miss Tokyo down here?"

Her only response was a grin.

Jacqui didn't say a word, continuing to draw him deeper into the basement until she was turning towards him, hands clutching at his arms once more. She pushed against him until his back was pressed to the wall, shoulder knocking against a doorframe.

"Good thing you have me now, right?" she purred again, leaning forward to drag her teeth against his earlobe.

He pushed her away. She grinned, shoved the door open, and pushed back, making him stumble until his knees hit _something_ and he was falling back onto a mattress.

"You wanna play that game, huh?" she said. "I'm the one in charge here, Rick."

She shoved him back onto the mattress, and his hands grasped at her waist to hold her back when she tried to climb onto the bed over him.

"No. _No_ , Jacqui. I– Kate. I'm married," he choked out. "I'm not–"

But he couldn't _tell_ her, couldn't risk it on the off chance that she was the killer, or the mystery woman they were searching for. Not when she already had the upper hand over him, had somehow managed to pin him to the bed, and could use that for far worse than this...dominatrix game she was into, if she wanted to.

"Getting cold feet, Rick?" She grinned, her hands falling to rest on his thighs. "And here I thought the city was more scandalous than the suburbs."

The city. Yes. Yes, the city. He could work with that. Can–

"Oh?" he managed. "You know anyone in the city?"

She laughed again, against his ear this time as she tried to lean forward despite the hands pushing her back. "Plenty of people," she answers. "Why? What is it to you?"

"Just curious," he said lamely. "Anyone around here go there often? Say, in the past few days?"

That had her going tense, pulling back from him, seemingly forgetting the game they'd been playing as her teeth caught at her lip, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Her hands tightened at his thighs, though, even as her gaze followed the length of his body.

"This isn't really the time for small talk," she said in a low voice.

"But do you know anyone?"

Her gaze narrowed even more. "There's Tina, my housekeeper," she admitted.

"Would she by any chance be meeting… male company, in the city?" he asked.

"Why? Looking for someone to replace me when you go home?" countered Jacqui, grin returning until she saw the serious look on his face. "No, she wouldn't be."

"Are you sure?"

She didn't hesitate before nodding. "Trust me, male company is the last thing Tina's looking for right now."

His jaw clenched at the information, confusion furrowing his brow. "How do you know?"

Jacqui scowled. "That's Tina's business, not mine." She waited a moment before grinning once more, hands coasting up along his thighs, making him wince. She bypassed his lap, hands flattening against his chest instead to shove him back onto the mattress. She climbed onto the bed so she was straddling his thighs, catching his hands and pinning them above his head despite his attempts to resist.

"This, on the other hand," she husked, voice back to its dominatrix tone, "is _my_ business."

* * *

Kate just barely caught her gaze drifting to the clock once more, another attempt at watching the minutes tick by with bated breath. It hadn't even been that long, but the urge to check her phone for a message she knew wouldn't be there was twisting in her gut.

"Don't worry too much, dear," said Susan, apparently catching onto the festering anxiety. "He's been working with the NYPD for how long now?"

She smiled, images of their first days flashing in her mind, reminders of how far they'd come. "Eight years," she answered, hand drifting along the swell of her stomach once more.

"And I'm certain that over the course of those years, you've encountered far more dangerous situations," said Susan, lips curling upwards ever so slightly at her responding nod. "So, wouldn't you say Rick is competent enough to handle one evening with Jacqui?"

Kate nodded her response, heart clenching with the knowledge that it was true despite the worry that lingered in her chest. "He is," she agrees. "I still worry, though."

Susan's response was a laugh, a soft chuckle that spilled from her lips. "Well of course you do, dear. He's your husband, and the two of you have faced great danger multiple times. I would expect nothing less," she said. "Would it help to distract you?"

It felt almost weak, to give into the need for distraction, but she found herself smiling at the offer, which seemed to be answer enough for Susan.

The elder woman pushed herself to stand, stepping over to where Kate was sitting. She held a hand out, offering a soothing smile as she waited for Kate to take it.

She did, free hand lingering on her baby bump as she watched Susan lift from the couch, pushed herself up to join.

"Howard has a chess game in his office. Why don't we play a round?" she suggested.

Kate nodded, despite the uncertainty that chess would clear her mind of its incessant worrying. She allowed Susan to lead her from the living room, up the grand staircase until they were standing in the familiar upstairs hallway. They stepped past a few doors, including that to the bedroom designated for herself and Rick, before Susan reached the one she was searching for.

She shoved it open, already apologizing to Howard for the interruption, only to be met with emptiness.

Howard wasn't home.

"Oh," breathed Susan. "That's odd."

But she said it as though this were normal, nothing to be worried about even though her husband was _missing._ Nowhere to be found. _Gone._

"Does Howard do this often? Leave in the evenings?"

Susan answered with a shake of her head. "I'm sure he merely went out to get more work done, or to visit with friends."

"Without telling you?"

She shrugged, looking back towards the empty office. The walls were lined with bookshelves and closed cabinets, the entire room in shades of warm browns, gleaming woods. The desk sat at the center of the room, computer screen seemingly dark given the lack of flow cast across the room. It looked…untouched.

And it was almost reminiscent of a more traditional, more lavish version of Castle's office.

 _Castle._

"I'm sure he's okay, wherever he is," said Susan. "Bad things rarely happen around here."

But bad things happened everywhere, unexpectedly, without warning.

Howard was _gone_. And Castle had walked into a meeting with a woman they barely knew, who could very well be the killer they were searching for. Something terrible could have happened. To Howard. To Castle.

Anything could have happened.

"Oh, dear," said Susan. "I doubt a distraction would do you any good now."

Her lips parted in an attempt to protest, but silence fell in its place. Because her heart was racing, the beat laced with anxiety, intensified by her mind's conjuring of worst-case scenarios.

Susan reached for her after a moment, catching her hand and squeezing it gently.

"How about we go to the country club?" she suggested.

"But–"

"It's the only way you'll stop worrying about him so much," said Susan honestly. "And if anyone wonders why we're there, we can claim it's for a drink. I _am_ a member, after all."

And before Kate could bring herself to protest or agree, Susan was all but dragging her to the door.

Jacqui lifted from the bed when she seemed certain he wouldn't move, grinning at him over her shoulder as she went. There was an exaggerated sway to her hips, which he caught only in the split second before he looked away.

Kate was going to _kill_ him. Not only did he barely get a lead on the case, but he'd worried her, _and_ Jacqui was returning to the bed, furry cuffs dangling from her finger as she slid back onto his lap.

"We'll start you off slow, Rick."

He jerked up on the bed when she tried to lean forward and secure the cuffs at his wrists. His hands found her hips again, pushing her away once more.

No potential lead could justify him allowing her to cuff him to a bed when he barely knew her, when Kate was waiting back at Susan's.

"I can't, Jacqui," he told her once again. "Kate– I'm very happy with Kate."

She only offered a raised brow, another smirk. "You wouldn't be looking for an affair if you really were."

 _Looking for an affair?_

"Don't worry," she said. "Just let me take the lead and I'll make sure it's worth your while."

She pushed him back once more, and when the click first sounded through the room, he thought it was the cuff closing around his wrist.

It was only when the sound continued, a steady rhythm and an echo he recognized well filling the silence that he realized it was footsteps. Probably Liz, he assumed, continuing whatever she had been doing with–

" _Howard?_ "

 _Susan?_ Susan was there? In the basement, this dominatrix dungeon he'd inadvertently found himself in?

And if Susan was there, Kate must be, too.

Sure enough, it only took a moment for the room's closed door to be shoved open. Kate appeared there, one hand curled right at the doorknob, the other clenched into a fist at her side.

He winced.

"What the _hell_ , Castle?"


	5. Chapter 5

Kate was watching as Castle scrambled to his feet the moment the words left her mouth, shoving Jacqui away in his haste to reach her. The other woman bounced on the bed, brows furrowed in confusion as she watched Castle rush across the room. His hands curled at Kate's waist, holding her close because her urge to walk away was surely written across her face.

Of course he wasn't getting killed. He was too busy getting laid.

"Let me explain," he said, squeezing her side, pulling her closer so the swell of her baby bump was pressed between them.

She scoffed. "I can't wait to hear this."

He seemed to take it as the invitation he needed, hand sliding into hers to draw her with him. He led her back down the hallway she'd just rushed through, past the room where Susan had found Howard doing far worse than what Kate had caught Castle doing. They walked up the stairs, and he fumbled for the light switch before flicking it on, bathing the main floor in a white glow.

"Castle–"

He turned to face her at that, hands looping around her middle once more. His fingers coasted along the length of her spine, trailing over the tense muscles at its base in that way he knew made her melt.

"I was just trying to get information for our case," he offered as an explanation. "Trust me, I had _no_ idea this is what she meant when she invited me here."

Some of the insecurity dispelled, the tight knot in her gut loosening, but still lingering even as she took a deep breath in an attempt to further calm down. It did nothing to ease the tightness in her chest, the burning jealousy wracking her mind.

"Could've done that without letting her _straddle_ you," she quipped, glaring at him from under her lashes. "Or try to tie you up."

He tightened his grip on her, hands locking against the base of her spine.

"I tried," he said. "She wouldn't take no for an answer." He paused, face bunching in concentration, making the flood of uncertainty return to her stomach. "Does this seem familiar to you, too?"

Her lips curled into a scowl, glare growing harsher with the raise of her brows that had him wincing, realizing his own mistake.

"Right, I should probably not mention that, for my benefit," he noted.

She responded with a nod, a hum of agreement, even as his hands drifted along her sides to curl at her hips instead. He pulled her closer, pushing her back until she was pressed against the wall, head tilting back so she could catch his gaze with hers.

"You're my _wife,_ Kate. You're the only woman I'll _ever_ want," he said.

His voice was laced with sincerity, words spoken like a promise he could never break. It should have had the insecurity fading completely, but she found it intensifying, a rush of discomfort through her system that had her gut twisting once more.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"You doubt that?"

Her eyes fell, landing on the bulge of her baby bump poking out between them. "I just, Jacqui's beautiful, and here I am getting fat and it will only get worse as–"

His hands lifted from her hips at that, the sudden flutter of movement cutting her off. One landed on her belly, the warmth of his palm soothing through the fabric of her shirt, familiar after months of him enjoying feeling the spot above their baby. The other curled beneath her chin, tilting her face upwards so their gazes locked once again.

"You're not fat," he said. "You're pregnant, growing our child and you're _beautiful._ " He paused, hand drifting from her stomach to her side, draw her body tighter against his. "And _hot_. Just as hot as the day we met. Nothing will ever change that."

Her heart lifted, a smile tugging at her features, soft and shy like only he could cause. "Nothing?"

"Nothing," he confirmed. "Especially not this, Kate. This only makes me fall in love with you even more."

Her smile bloomed wider, affection warm in her chest as she leaned into him at last, pushing onto her toes to press a kiss to his lips.

"I love you, too," she mumbled as she pulled away, hands curling at his shoulders to keep him from leaving in again. "Did the, uh, dominatrix at least give you something for our case?"

His face lit up at that. "She did, actually!" he said. "Jacqui's housekeeper, Tina, was in the city in the past few days, and Jacqui seemed to really not want to talk about it."

"Well, she doesn't really have a choice now."

* * *

He hoped, for Kate's sake and his own, that Jacqui wouldn't mention the whole situation, as he followed his wife back into the basement. They walked past where Liz had changed back into a pair of skinny jeans and a blouse, eyeing the room from which Howard and Susan's voices could be heard. Back to the room where Jacqui was now sitting on the bed, robe draped over her body.

"I figured you'd come back," she said. "Something's not right about you two."

Beckett crossed her arms over her chest, nodding her head. He watched her slip easily into detective mode, cool and collected and demanding respect as though the last fifteen minutes had never happened.

"We're not really here to move into the area," she told Jacqui. "We're actually with the NYPD, here on a murder investigation."

Jacqui nodded, seemingly unsurprised as her gaze cut from Kate to him. "Is that what was up with all the weird questions?"

He offered a sheepish smile. "That would be why," he confirmed.

Jacqui turned her gaze back to Kate. "So, you think Tina is involved in your case?" she asked. "Because she would never kill anyone."

Kate sat down on the bed next to Jacqui, left him standing by the door on his own. She offered Jacqui the reassuring smile he knew her to use when talking to witnesses, trying to get information and make the other person feel at ease.

"We have reason to believe Tina might have been with our victim the day he was murdered," she explained. "Do you know if she knows an Andy McLaughlin?"

Jacqui's face blanched, hands clutching at the edges of her robe, drawing the sides tighter across her chest. An answer in and of itself, but she spoke all the same. "She does," she manages, voice shaky. "He was killed?"

"He was," said Kate. "Do you know the nature of his relationship with Tina?"

Jacqui nodded again, but bit her lip as though nervous for a moment before speaking. "I do, but it's something you should ask Tina about," she said. "I just... she's had a tough time and I think she should be the one to tell you."

* * *

The sound of Esposito's phone cut off Miguel's story, drawing both their attentions to the device which had lingered in his hand after the call with Ryan. Beckett's caller ID lit up the phone, and he showed it to Miguel briefly before answering the call.

"Hey Beckett," he said in greeting.

"Hey," she echoed. "I thought you might want to know we got an update on the case."

"You did?"

She hummed. "We identified Andy's mystery woman," she informed him. "Her name is Tina Henderson. We confirmed that she knew Andy and was in the city the day he died."

"That sounds promising," he said. "Have you guys spoken to her?"

"That's our plan for first thing in the morning," she told him. "I'll call you with more information when I have some, okay?"

He nodded even though she couldn't see him. "Okay. Talk to you then, Beckett," he agreed, ending the call as soon as her goodbye crossed the line.

Miguel was staring at him intently when he shoved his phone into his pocket.

"They got a lead?" he asked.

Esposito nodded. "They identified the mystery woman as someone named Tina Henderson. They're going to talk to her in the morning."

Miguel nodded, didn't say a word as he turned back to his beer and took another sip of the drink. Esposito waited a minute for a response, took a drink of his own beer, before speaking again.

"I'm just gonna call Ryan and see if he's looking into her," he told Miguel, who nodded again, his gaze on the table.

Esposito only hesitated for a moment before standing, escaping the bar to find somewhere quieter to make the call.

When he returned, Miguel was gone.

* * *

Tina arrived at Susan and Howard's house at eight o'clock sharp, head dipped, hands twisting at the strap of the bag she had clutched in her hands. She didn't say a word besides her greeting of _you wanted to see me_ as she stepped across the threshold. Her steps were hesitant, slow and nervous as she followed Beckett into Susan and Howard's living room.

"Thank you for having me," she murmured to Susan as they passed the kitchen, where the elder woman was mumbling about Howard's affair as she stirred her tea.

Kate continued to lead Tina through the house, until they were seated in the lavish living room. Tina took a seat on the couch, Castle taking up the spot on the opposite end as Beckett dropped into one of the chairs opposite the other woman. Her hands folded at her crossed knees, and she leaned forward, towards Tina, until the bulge of her baby bump was pressed to her legs.

"Do you know why we needed to speak to you today?" she asked.

Tina nodded. "Jacqui told me," she muttered, tears already flooding her eyes. She wiped the away quickly, took a shaky breath as though trying to steady herself. "Andy. He– He died?" The words broke as she spoke them, shattered with hurt that had Kate already growing certain that Tina was not their killer.

"He was poisoned," she offered as an explanation. "Did you know him well?"

The response was yet another nod, just as timid at the last.

"Do you by any chance have his credit card?" asked Kate.

That had Tina looking up, eyes wide as she answered with another nod. Her hands released their vise grip on the strap of her bag, shaking and fumbling as she opened it and pulled out her wallet. She popped the credit card from its slot there, leaning forward to set it on the coffee table between them.

Kate reached over and took it, briefly catching the curious rise of her husband's brows as he watched the exchange.

"How did you get Andy's credit card?" asked Castle.

"He gave it to me."

"Why would Andy give you his credit card?"

Tina looked away at that, eyes locking on her lap where her hands were twisting with nerves. She took a deep breath, and once again reached up to wipe tears from her eyes, hands shaking as she did so.

"It's a long story," she muttered.

"We have time," said Beckett.

Tina looked up at that, stared Beckett down for a long moment before her shoulders sagged on a sigh, before she seemingly gave into the need to explain the relationship between herself and their murder victim.

"He was trying to help me," she answered. "My name is actually… Christina Santiago, or Chrissie. Henderson is my maiden name, but the divorce isn't finalized yet. I was married to one of Andy's friends."

Kate felt something tighten in her chest, a sinking in her stomach as suspicion settled there, knowledge of where the story may have been going. "Miguel Santiago?"

Tina— _Chrissie_ —nodded her response. "We were only married for a few months when he started... started beating me," she explained. "He would do it so often, and I couldn't fight back, I couldn't stand up for myself. But when Andy found out, he stood up for me."

"Andy talked to Miguel?" asked Beckett. "About the way he was treating you?"

Chrissie's lip quirked upwards in a smile. "He did. He was so kind to me, standing up to his friend that way. Things even got better between Miguel and I for a while," she explained, face falling somber once more as her final sentence trailed off. "But it didn't last, and eventually things got even worse than they were before. Andy thought it would be best if I left. If Andy's dead… I wouldn't put it past my husband to take revenge on Andy for helping me."

Beckett's teeth found her lip, dragging against it to find the swirl of nerves in her stomach, the flood of knowledge she wished would go away but only intensified with Chrissie's words. "So you came here?"

"Jacqui was an old friend and looking for a housekeeper," she explained. "I told her my situation and she offered me the job and a place to stay until I could get on my feet again. And Andy gave me his credit card so I could cover myself, financially, for the time being." Tears had flooded her eyes again, and this time she didn't move to wipe them away. "I can't believe he's dead."

* * *

"You got anything?" Esposito's voice boomed through the precinct when he arrived for the day.

Ryan felt his heart sink at the words, dread heavy in his chest. He closed the file he had on his desk, drawing it onto his lap as he turned his chair to face Esposito, where his partner was leaning against his desk. He seemed hopeful that they'd finally have a concrete lead, and it only made Ryan regret what he'd found even more.

They had a lead. Just not the one Esposito wanted.

"I've been, uh, looking into the source of the cyanide," he explained quietly, hand clutching tightly at the file in his lap.

"And did you find anything?" asked Espo.

Ryan nodded, slow and hesitant and drawing the file open. "There's a lab in the city, they study entomology and keep cyanide powder on site," he explained. "They recently reported that some of the powder went missing, suspecting the robbery was an inside job."

Esposito reached for the file, reading over the inconclusive robbery report for himself, smiling at the promise of the lead they'd obtained.

"So, anyone related to the case work there?" he asked. "Maybe the mystery woman. What's her name? Tina?"

Ryan shook his head. "Tina has no relation to the lab," he answered. "But someone involved in the case does."

"Who?"

He sucked in a breath, reaching forward to swipe the file from his partner's hands to turn it to the final page in the folder. An employment contract for a janitor, marked with an identification photograph that still made his mouth go dry. He handed it back to Esposito, unwilling to say the words, allowing his partner to find out as his gaze fell to the page laid out before him, snapped back up.

"Bro," he said.

"I'm sorry," said Ryan, "but Miguel is the only person with any relation to Andy _and_ the lab. And I checked—there was over an hour between him finishing work and arriving at the bar two blocks over on Friday."

Esposito looked back down at the file, threw it aside so pages were cast across his desk. "He didn't do this, Ryan," he argued. "Andy's saved his life countless times, Miguel would never _kill_ him in return."

"Are you sure?"

His heart lurched against his ribs when a flicker of uncertainty passed across Esposito's face.

"What happened?"

His partner looked away, jaw clenching against the words only for them to escape anyway. "Last night, Beckett called to let me know they'd identified the mystery woman, and I was with Miguel at the time, so I told him."

"Espo–"

He shook his head, cutting Ryan off. "And then I went to call you, and when I went back into the bar, he was gone. Didn't even say goodbye."

Ryan felt his blood run cold, fear lacing in his chest as he realized what that could mean, realized that Miguel could be their killer.

And could be going to find Tina.

"We have to call Beckett," he said.

* * *

Susan came into the living room to bring them all a cup of tea as their meeting with Tina continued. She was still muttering under her breath as she stepped through the living room.

"A dominatrix. Really? And a lamb? A _lamb_?" she mumbled over and over again, ignoring the bubble of laughter Castle smothered behind his hand and the concerned look Tina—no, Chrissie—shot her.

Kate tried to ignore it, despite the well of concern and sympathy for the older woman, having seen the look on Susan's face when they'd first spotted Howard in the basement with Liz. She turned back to Chrissie instead, intent on continuing her questioning.

"Was there ever anything romantic between you and Andy?" she asked.

Chrissie shook her head, taking a quick sip of her tea. "No, never. We were just—"

The phone ringing cut her off, had Castle looking up at Beckett with furrowed brows as she reached into her pocket for the device. She showed him the caller ID, explained to Chrissie that it was likely an update on the case, before standing and leaving the living room, stepping deeper into the house to where she could answer the call alone.

"Beckett," she said.

"Hey, it's Ryan," came the response. "We got an update on the case."

"So do I," she countered, but Ryan cut her off before she could explain.

"Andy was killed with cyanide, and the lab where Miguel works had some go missing a few days ago," he said. "But Beckett, Esposito told him about Tina–"

Her attention cut to a sound from the living room, the sound of her husband's voice calling her name drawing her back to where he and Chrissie were still sitting.

"Uh, Kate," he said, motioning out the window to where an unexpected maintenance van was pulling up in front of the house.

"We think he might be going your way."

"Uh, yeah," she mumbled. "Ryan, I have to go."

She hung up, shoving her phone back into her pocket, her other hand curling where she'd clipped her piece to her waist when she'd woken up that morning. Her gaze stayed locked on the van as a man stepped from it, head dipped as though to hide his identity, and stepped out of her view.

The door burst open, and she was scrambling to get her gun from her hip to aim it at the entranceway.

Where Miguel was pointing his own gun into the living room.

And the first shot went off.


	6. Chapter 6

A glass vase shattered behind her, Miguel's bullet having flown through the living room to hit the wall opposite him.

It was enough to have Susan screaming, Castle reaching for Chrissie and dragging her onto the floor, crawling with her so they were hidden behind the couch, shielded by furniture. Beckett glanced down to see Chrissie curling into a ball against the armrest, pressing her face between her knees and muttering apologies as Castle tried to comfort her.

And the second shot went off. That time, it hit a cabinet in the corner of the room, shattering glass once again as it pierced the front panel.

Castle vacated his spot near Chrissie, crawling over to Beckett instead. His hand curled at her ankle, tugging lightly, making her force herself to keep her gaze trained on Miguel in order to keep him from aiming the next bullet at her husband.

"Kate," he hissed. "Get down."

She kept her gaze locked ahead, hoping Castle could see the slight, defiant shake of her head.

"Please, Kate."

Her hands tightened their grip on her gun, her utterance of _I can't_ staying silent as she continued to stare down Miguel. His gaze was darting around the room, gun still trained in her direction as he searched, clenched his jaw at the emptiness he found.

"Where is she?" he yelled.

"Who?" she countered.

Miguel shook his head, adjusting his grip on his gun again, aiming it more directly at her. "You know who," he said. "Where the hell is my wife?"

Castle's grip tightened at her ankle, and it took her a moment to realize he was tugging her pants up her leg, drawing her spare piece from her ankle holster. He breathed a quiet _thank goodness_ that she'd made the decision to wear both pieces that day, and crawled quietly away.

She wanted to hiss at him to stay still, stay _down_ , but doing so would only draw Miguel's attention.

"I don't know your wife," she lied, trying to ignore the gun trained on her chest.

"Stop lying!" he shouted back at her. He shifted the gun, aiming it at the wall behind her and shooting another bullet, a threat as it whirred through the air, past her head. "Esposito told me you found her. She goes by Tina here."

"I don't know her," she repeated.

Miguel aimed his gun again, this time behind him, above his head, at the chandelier hanging over the entrance way. The sound of shattered glass drowned Susan's grieving shout, silenced only to be replaced by the crackling of a budding fire.

Her heart clenched, sank, fear tugging within her. If she hadn't still been aiming her gun at Miguel, she would have let her hand drop to her baby bump, attempt to soothe the race of her heart with the reminder of budding life before rushing from Susan's home to safety.

"Susan, go outside," she ordered, before turning back to Miguel. "I don't want to shoot you, Miguel," she promised. "You saved Esposito's life, he trusts you, cares about you. I don't want to hurt you, but if you don't put the gun down now, I'm going to have no choice."

"Tell me where my wife is!" came his response, booming through the house. "Or I'll shoot _you._ "

He returned his aim to her chest, and she ducked behind the chair just as Castle popped up at the opposite corner of the room, gun trained on Miguel. He pulled the trigger and sent the other man tumbling to the ground, groaning in pain.

Loosening the knot of worry in her chest.

Castle returned to find the spot where she and Chrissie were huddled behind the couch, holding his hand out to her first. He helped her to her feet, shaky legs rendering the movement difficult, as her free hand fell to her baby bump.

"Get out," he ordered.

She nodded, rushing from the burning house as he helped Chrissie from the floor and led her to the back door, only a few steps behind her.

* * *

The drive back to the city had been silent from the moment she'd hung up her call with Ryan and Esposito, and the second one with the Commissioner. Castle drove, having insisted as she was speaking on the phone, and every time they stopped, his gaze would fall to her stomach, his hand reaching over to curl there.

She eventually rested her hand over his, as they pulled into a parking spot near the precinct. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.

He shook his head. "Don't apologize. I know you didn't want to have to shoot him," he whispered. "I'm just glad you're both okay."

Her smile curled, hesitant, at the corners of her mouth when she looked up to catch his gaze, leaned over the center console to smudge a kiss to his lips.

"Thank you, for being so good at thinking on your feet," she whispered. "And for staying back to help Chrissie. She really needed that."

His nod was hesitant, ended when he pressed another kiss to her lips before turning from the car to lead her to the precinct.

As he'd promised, the Commissioner was there when she stepped onto the homicide floor, standing in her office with Deputy Inspector Gates. The boys sat at Esposito's desk, heads dipped, nervous and somber. She paused only for a moment to offer each of them a low word of encouragement, muttering an apology to Esposito, before continuing to her office.

The Commissioner turned the moment she closed the door behind her. "Captain Beckett," he said. "It seems your precinct has a habit of breaking the rules."

"We catch the killer every time, sir," she countered.

"You almost got an innocent woman killed," he argued. "One of your detectives gave confidential information regarding an ongoing investigation to a civilian, who turned out to be the killer. Care to tell me why I shouldn't fire him?"

She steeled her jaw, crossed her arms over her chest. "Detective Esposito is a good cop. One mistake doesn't justify termination, sir."

He scoffed. "You would know, wouldn't you?"

"And she's running one of the most effective precincts in the city," piped up Gates, offering a reassuring smile. "People make mistakes, sir, but Detective Esposito is great at his job and doesn't deserve such a severe punishment simply because this mistake affected you personally."

The Commissioner glared, but his shoulders seemed to sag at the accusation, as though accepting it to be true. Esposito's mistake _had_ affected him personally, having resulted in a shooting at the Commissioner's sister's home, and a fire that had caused extensive damage before it had been put out.

"He doesn't deserve termination," said Beckett. "Suspend him, or do something else, but this mistake does not warrant such a grievous punishment."

The Commissioner shot her a glare. "I'm not going to suspend him, Captain Beckett," he said. "But he will suffer consequences. Detective Esposito, and others involved in this, will have their upcoming promotions postponed until they rewrite the exam."

Her heart sank, gaze cutting to where the boys were sitting with Castle, awaiting news of the Commissioner's decision, but she nodded all the same.

It was better than the alternative.

* * *

Accepting Ryan's invitation for drinks might have been a mistake, he noted, as he stepped into a bar far too similar to the one he'd visited with Miguel the night before. But his partner had offered to pay, offered consolation after the terrible day they'd had, and Esposito didn't really want to go home to an empty apartment, either.

He slid into the booth opposite Ryan, silencing the chatter surrounding them with a clench of his jaw as he focused on his partner, who was ordering their drinks.

Two shots of whiskey came within minutes, along with a couple of bottles of beer. Ryan nudged one of the glasses in his direction, grabbing one for himself. His partner took the shot first, making Esposito do the same, hoping the burn of alcohol down his throat would soothe some of the pain in his chest.

"I'm sorry about your friends," said Ryan.

Esposito looked up at him, swallowed a gulp of his beer before speaking. "I can't believe he was using me for information. He just wanted us to find Chrissie for him, so he could get revenge on her for leaving him. Did you notice he was the one who suggested we go undercover? I was being duped all along," he said with a somber shake of his head. "But I'm sorry you got moved back to the bottom of the waiting list for the Sergeant's exam," he continued, hoping the quirk of his half-hearted smile would soothe some of the sting Ryan was surely feeling.

But his partner smiled back at him. "Don't worry about it," he said. "One out of two kids getting a good education is a fairly good percentage."

Regret tightened in his gut at that, despite the knowledge that Ryan was merely teasing. Images filled his mind of Sarah Grace and Nicholas possibly suffering the effects of an untenable financial situation caused in part by _him._

"Bro, it's okay, really," said Ryan. "You trusted Miguel with your life, rightfully so, after everything you've been through. Trusting him with case details was only logical."

He scoffed. "It was against regulations."

Ryan shrugged. "We've all broken regulations," he offered. "You did the best you could do given the circumstances, bro."

But he hadn't. He'd let the past blind his perception of the present, only to be reminded of how little he truly knew. Had told a man who abused his wife said wife's exact location. Had told a killer details about the investigation into the murder of his victim. Had sent said killer after his wife, putting innocent people and his team in danger.

"I should have been smarter," he told Ryan. "Miguel was the exact opposite of what I thought, dammit. Even the people you trust can screw you over."

Ryan waited for him to look up before speaking, holding his bottle out as though he'd made a toast to something. "Sorry," he said. "But not everyone will screw you over."

Esposito mirrored his halfhearted smile, reached up to tap the neck of Ryan's beer bottle with his own. "Thanks."

* * *

Castle found Beckett standing at the living room window, a cup of tea in one hand, the other resting on her baby bump, a habit she seemed to be falling into since her belly had popped. He smiled at the sight, his wife draped in a loose sweater, hair pulled up in a ponytail, bathed in fading sunlight.

He stepped up behind her, looping his arms around her waist, hands folding against the swell of her belly as she sank into him. Her head landed against his shoulder, allowing him to turn his head and smudge a kiss to her forehead.

"I missed this," she whispered. "The city."

His laughter puffed against her skin, had him burying it in her hair. "You're not just saying that to get me to stop talking about the suburbs, are you?" he asked.

She turned in his arms, reaching over to set her cup on the piano before looping her hands around his neck. Lifting onto her toes, she pressed a kiss to his lips, allowed him to see the small smile that bloomed across her face.

"No," she whispered. "If you really want to consider moving to the suburbs, we can."

But he shook his head, leaning into her once more, kissing her again as his hand drifted from her back to the swell of her stomach. "I don't," he whispered back. "Our child can explore all of Central Park, piece by piece, instead of just a backyard."

Her smile widened, head dipping forward as she nodded, tried to hide the bright gleam of joy in her eyes.

"And we can have a pet here," he said. "If we choose to have one, that is. And our child will get to learn culture and explore the city. We'll get to teach him or her all the joys of Chinese takeout and New York pizza and how wonderful it is to be surrounded by so many people."

He leaned down, pressed a kiss to her head, a second to her temple when she tilted her head back, a third to the tip of her nose to make her eyes crinkle with glee. She pushed herself up once more, dusting her lips to his.

"This city will be as good to our child as it was to us," he promised between kisses.

She pulled away only for a second, eyes bright and happy as she nodded in agreement, before kissing him again.

* * *

 _Episode beta work by acertainzest and ivyandtwine_

 _Castle Season 9 is produced by Team Planet and the writing team of Castle Season 9_ _. Executive Producer is_ _encantadaa._

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